


Boogeyman

by PepperCat



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, Misdirection, hallowe'en prank, monster under the bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8435284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperCat/pseuds/PepperCat
Summary: Hartley sniffs. "Is this a good time to point out that I have just gotten grabbed by a terrifying creature lurking under the bed and conventional wisdom says I should hide under a blanket until morning?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [coldflashwavebaby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby)'s [Legends of SuperFlarrow Halloween Horrorfest](http://coldflashwave-baby.tumblr.com/post/149768872878/legends-of-superflarrow-halloween-horrorfest), and based--admittedly loosely--on Stephen King's short story "The Boogeyman".
> 
> In closets or under the bed, it's all much of a muchness, right?

Since he's going upstairs anyway, Hartley empties the dryer and brings up Axel's things. The door to his housemate's room is shut, and there's what seems to be a mash-up of spooky songs and movie quotes playing inside. When calling Axel's name doesn't produce any response, Hartley knocks and the door swings open.

Axel isn't in there, which is a little odd; he's not anywhere else in the house, and Hartley knows he was in here earlier. He wasn't really paying attention, though, and the music might have drowned out the sounds of him going out. Hartley would not put it past his roommate to have wandered out for a walk, maybe gone out to sneak up on a late-night trick-or-treater. They've _talked_ about not terrifying random neighbourhood children, but Hartley would not swear to how much of it has actually sunk in.

He goes to put laundry on the bed, calling Axel, and that's when a hand comes out from under the bed and closes firmly around his ankle.

Hartley _shrieks_ , feels the fingers scrabble at his foot as he pulls free and leaps, clears most of the width of the mattress and ends up on the far side of the bed, pressed against the wall. His ears are ringing and his knees are weak; he collapses to half-sitting, trying to get a proper gasp of air in so he can get another scream out instead of the thin scared teakettle noise he's currently making.

Screaming is a reflex, he knows. It's pointless. At certain levels of fright, it's irresistible.

As the ringing in his ears fades, he hears a familiar giggle.

"Piper... Oh, Piper..."

There's a squirming noise, and Axel drags himself up over the edge of the bed, pulls himself up enough to rest his elbows on the mattress. His hair is ruffled and his grin is wide, and when he gets a good look at Piper he starts laughing.

"Oh God, Piper, the look on your face..."

Hartley makes the teakettle sound one more time and then stumble-lunges forward, hits Axel. It'd be a weak blow at the best of times and right now he's shivery with fright; Axel lifts one arm to catch the swings and just keeps laughing.

"Piper," he says after a minute, still snickering, when Hartley's stopped hitting him. "Piper, I didn't think I'd scare you that bad." It's probably an apology. It's probably what passes for an apology, with Axel. "You okay?"

"You son of a bitch."

Axel laughs and reaches out to touch Hartley's foot. "Awh, Piper," he says. "Come on down."

"What?" His heart's still racing, and everything looks too bright. It's a dizzy hummingbird feeling.

"Come on under." Axel smiles, and and pushes himself up a little, but not forward, not like he's going to crawl onto the bed. Like he's getting ready to back off the mattress and go back underneath.

"Why?"

Axel laughs again. "Didn't you ever hide under the bed when you were a kid?" He lets himself down and the mattress cuts off the sight of him and Hartley leans forward and crawls towards the edge of the bed to take a very careful look. Axel's lying flat on his back on the floor, mostly under the bed, but the left side of his torso and his head and one arm are still in sight.

Hartley sniffs. "Is this a good time to point out that I have just gotten grabbed by a terrifying creature lurking under the bed and conventional wisdom says I should hide under a blanket until morning?"

Axel grins up at him, eyes bright as cracked glass. "You'll need to get off the bed sometime, Piper. Come on."

"You're messing with me."

"No more than is in my nature," Axel says, and Hartley thinks that's an odd phrasing. "I really didn't mean to scare you that bad, Piper." He holds up his hand and Hartley hesitates but takes it. Axel's skin is dust-dry, but his grip is solid, and Hartley feels a little less like his nerves are going to flutter out of his skin.

He lies down next to the bed and slides himself under with one hand on the bedframe and Axel pulling his other hand. It isn't so much cosy as close, and quite dark. It smells of dust and a little of old metal; that's probably the old air vent in the floorboards. The only light is coming in from the side of the bed they've crawled in under, and Hartley's body is blocking most of the backsplash of that; if he looks towards Axel he can only see hints of an outline and the occasional wet shine of his eyes and teeth.

"See? It's not so bad."

Axel must have pulled himself up against the wall; Hartley's clear of the edge and still can't feel him besides holding his hand.

"Don't you get cramped under here?"

"There's at least as much space underneath as on top," Axel says from further under the bed. "It's just got a lower ceiling, see?" Axel's other hand settles lightly on his stomach; he must be twisting around harder than Hartley's willing to, to be able to reach across himself that way.

"I'd rather be on top of the bed," Hartley says, trying for arch, and there's a slithering kind of giggle. He lets go of Axel's hand and twists a little so that he can slide his hand up Axel's arm. It's awkward, but he wants to touch the other man's face, even if he can't make it out very well, and his sleeve pulls through something tacky. The metallic smell gets stronger.

Hartley pulls his hand back.

"Axel, are you alright?" He tries to get a better look at the smear on his sleeve and it's a dull thick colour but he can't make out more than that. It couldn't be blood, even if there was a-- a nail or something in the floorboards-- Axel doesn't exactly keep quiet when he's hurt and the stuff is too tacky. If it _was_ blood, it's from a good hour ago.

The hand on his stomach tightens. He can feel nails digging in, or something longer and sharper than nails.

Hartley looks away from his sleeve to the figure next to him and can see its smile, its teeth, so close to his face in the dark.

"...Axel?"

"I got _him_ ," the thing under the bed says, "by pretending to be you."

Screaming is a reflex. It's pointless.

 


End file.
